How I Became A Fangbanger
by BellaWriter7
Summary: A playful little offshoot/outtake from Healing Blood. What happens when one of HB's biggest fans is sick? Well, the whole HB crew comes to help nurse her back to health. Especially one very persuasive vampire.


**A/N:** Hi everyone. I thought I'd post this on my profile as well as on Ali's group as a fun little outtake kind of thing while I work very slowly on the next Healing Blood. I swear I have not abandoned the story! My life has just been crazy. Mostly good crazy-started dating a new boy, working really hard. But also I've been sick for the past two weeks and unable to think very clearly. So I wanted to reassure you that there will be more HB coming. Just be patient with me.

For your reading pleasure (I hope), this is a story I wrote for the fabulous Northman Maille (sp?)-aka Ali-set as a kind of meta off-shoot of my regular multichapter fic, Healing Blood. As such, there are several characters and characterizations that are unique to the story. You'll understand this without having read Healing Blood, but you might enjoy it more if you have. As always, a huge shout-out to my beta, moxie mo, who is encouraging when I need it and cleans up my writing when it needs it, too. Seriously, you keep me going when I just can't imagine writing any more fan fiction. You are the wind beneath my wings.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned the Southern Vampire Mysteries, there would be more naked Eric. In every book. In every chapter. On every page. Ergo, not mine. I'm poor, don't sue.

**How I Became a Fangbanger  
**

I was so used to people coming into my room in the care home that I didn't even flinch when a straw was held to my lips. What did surprise me into spitting up my cherry Lucozade all over my front was the voice accompanying it.

"There, dear," she said softly, a smile in her voice. A soft voice with hard consonants. Not from my part of England, for sure. Not from the UK at all, I'd say. I felt a gentle but firm hand snake behind my neck and prop my head at the right angle so I could swallow what was in my mouth and a hand efficiently blotted the mess from my chest. She chuckled. "I'd spit up too if all I could have was this terrible cherry concoction!"

I opened my eyes open and there she was. I blinked but nope—she was still here. Jesus me granny!

Her softly lined face was broken into a broad smile and her short, fluffy brown curls surrounded her face in a no-nonsense bob.

"Now, can you sit up? I know it's awful, but we've got to get a little more of this stuff in you." She helped me drag myself up onto the pillows a little higher and, just like that, the straw was back at my mouth. Once I got out of here, I was banning cherry from my life: Cherry slushies, dried cherries from salads, cherry cough drops. All of it. Even the sight of cherry blossoms would make me nauseous, I was sure of it.

I watched her in shock as she perched herself on the edge of my bed. I sucked a little at the cherry drink distractedly. She watched me placidly but I could tell she was monitoring every little thing I did. "You are just as lovely as Mr. Northman and Sookie told me you'd be," she smiled. "Well—mostly Sookie told me. You know how tight-lipped Mr. Northman can be. Well..."

She blushed and I laughed against my straw, shaking my head. I had a feeling I knew exactly what she was blushing about.

Then I couldn't stomach any more of that disgusting drink. I slowed and stopped sucking. I leaned my head away and rested it on the pillow. I cleared my throat from sleep and chuckled. I couldn't help laughing. Never in all my years would I have imagined this.

"Bonita!" I hugged her to me with weak arms, but I hadn't felt so energized since the last time Malc was here to help with my shower. I blushed thinking about "Mr. Northman" in the shower, too. "What... How...?" I peered around her and out the door to my room, wondering why the other nurses and staff hadn't discovered a rogue caregiver among them, making sure to give me my sustenance for the morning and talking about people I knew in Louisiana.

She chuckled and pulled back, smoothing her hands over my round face and ruddy-red hair. She held the glass out to keep from spilling it.

"Oh, it's Bonnie, please," she said in a soft voice, her eyes staring at me in that practiced way all nurses have-friendly but clinical at the same time. She patted my shoulder. "And as for how I came to be here, I can't rightly say. You know how vamps are: Secretive. All I know is I woke up one morning with a message from my agency and a first-class ticket on Virgin Atlantic."

Her eyes sparkled and I laughed as she leaned forward. It must have been her first trip to my fine country. "It was so fancy! Did you know they have little TV screens on the back of every seat? And you get to choose each movie you watch and even TV shows. I watched some program on loan special from HBO about some southern vampires and a fairy princess. It was silly, but I sure did enjoy that tall blond vampire. It made me wonder if Mr. Northman had ties in Hollywood. I didn't get a lick of sleep on the flight. I watched all three seasons!"

I chuckled at her enthusiasm and shared it. In no time, we were gabbing like old friends about the stupid plot with some maenad and how boring some of the characters turned out to be and the crazy proliferations of plots in the last season. We were both rooting for the heroine to end up with the same vampire and making bets on what would happen next season.

But then we pulled back and I remembered my question when a rolling cart went past my door. I tensed up and Bonita—Bonnie—must have sensed my discomfort.

"Now don't you worry, dear. I wouldn't be here if it weren't approved through the proper channels. I don't know what those are, of course. But I did hear something about the queen of England—the vampire queen, not the stuffy one with the crown and the corgis, if you don't mind me saying—giving special permission for me to work here. What she has to do with Newlands, I couldn't tell you. If I had to guess there's got to be a vamp up high in the management who pulled some strings." She shrugged. "In any case, they know I'm here and they know I'm gonna help you get better."

She looked me over and caressed my hair. I sighed in happiness. Her smile was suddenly bright and determined and I got a little nervous. "Now then! Let's finish this drink and get a bath for you. Then I think we should work on some of your exercises."

I started at her agog but after a second I gathered my wits and chuckled. Why should this surprise me? I knew how Bonita—Bonnie—wouldn't let me rest on my laurels more than necessary, and I was secretly looking forward to my physical therapy.

I nodded and took the drink again. As I swallowed mouthful after mouthful of the putrid stuff, Bonnie told me about her favorite meals back in Louisiana and what she'd cook for me when I was released back home if she was still here. All this talk of lamb and fried potatoes made me salivate and before I knew it, I'd finished the whole litre glass. She smiled at me and I just knew she'd done it on purpose. She was good.

. .

. .

"You know, Sookie talks about you all the time," Bonnie said as she slipped her strong fingers over my scalp, washing my hair and making me groan in relaxed pleasure. "Now that she's getting better at the computer, I always know when she's gotten an email from you because I hear a squealing from the second floor."

Her hands stopped sudsing up my head and she started massaging firmly and in long strokes. Her fingers glided right from the crown of my head and towards my hairline, first toward the top of my head and then down towards my temples. She massaged my jaw and behind my ears. By the time she got to the nape of my neck, I was floating blissfully on a wave or calm. You can't know how important that is when you haven't been sick and in pain like I have. I wouldn't take this for granted.

"You know, I don't usually talk about other patients, but Sookie insisted that I pass along a hello and said it was fine. So... Well, I'm breaking my own rule to tell you this." Her hands stopped kneading and pressed firmly into my shoulders, almost as if she was trying to hug me from above. "Thank you, Ali. You've been so good for Sookie. There were times, I can't tell you, when I was so scared for her, and for that vampire of hers."

She paused and I was sure she was shaking her head in worry. I knew that feeling. I did it all the time when I got updates emailed to me about her recovery. When she told me in confidence she'd nearly rescinded Eric's invitation during broad daylight, I wanted to climb through the fiber optic lines and throttle her. I placed one wet hand on hers and squeezed lightly.

"But you! She'd get an email from you about how you were doing, and about you and Malcolm—that's your sugar, isn't it?—and she'd come back downstairs with a light in her eye. And she'd be sweeter to that vampire of hers."

There was a quiver to her voice and I took pause. She wasn't getting teary, was she? Because if she did, then I would, and I was feeling too good to go in that direction. I heard a sniffle and she went back to massaging, this time giving up the pretense of washing my hair and just massaging down my neck, to my shoulders and down my arms. I wasn't about to fight her.

"And on the days we'd spend on the porch, she would tell me all about you: Your crafts, your sly sense of humor, your bravery, your great group of friends. I don't know Sookie that well—" she started but she stopped herself. "Well, that's not true. I've been with her every day for a month. I know her real well. But what I mean to say is, it doesn't seem she has that many friends. And I know your friendship means the world to her."

. .

. .

I was flat on my back, warm from the bath and relaxed from Bonnie's massage, but she wasn't done with me yet. She expertly lifted my left leg from the bed and began rotating, stretching and moving it. I groaned as prickles of heat and soreness shot up to my spine. I grasped the bedding lightly.

I loved physical therapy. I hated physical therapy.

"Did Sookie ever tell you about my aunt who had MS?" My eyes shot to hers and I furrowed my brow. What did that have to do with— For fuck's sake, this hurt! Bonnie just smiled down at me. "One of her big symptoms was muscle weakness, so I went with her to her physical therapist one day and he taught me all the exercises she needed to do.

"I really got on her about it. But you know how it is with physical therapy," she shook her head and chuckled. "Even when you know you need it to keep functioning, getting yourself to do it is like trying to convince yourself to put your hand in a bowl of hot coals. Aunt Flora just refused to do it. So you know what I did? I started setting a timer on her phone that played that rap song—the one about underpants..." She glanced away and blushed and I tried to think of a rap song about underpants. Did she mean... "The Thong Song!" She smiled brightly, proud that she remembered it, and I couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up my throat.

That's not rap, but I wasn't about to correct her because she'd switched legs and was now rotating, stretching and then making me fight the resistance of her hand against my calf, testing my muscles. They were definitely losing. Sweat had sprung up on my upper lip and the back of my neck and I started to wonder about the wisdom of bathing before doing all this. Hell, maybe Malc would be here in time to help me with a shower. My skin felt scratchy just imagining more hot water, but then she asked me to sit up and switch to my wheelchair and I couldn't think anymore.

"Well, you know, Flora just hated that song! It'd go off every hour, and it made her get up to get it, at least the first time. She's not real technology savvy, and I hate to take advantage of someone like that—Lord knows I don't know an iPhone from a rotary phone—but someone had to prod her on to get working on herself! I wasn't going to watch as she just let herself wither away."

She had a look of amused determination in her eyes and I shrunk back, suddenly aware that Bonnie could turn that on me. I'd have to remember to hide my phone away before she nicked it.

"And Flora wasn't like that, you understand. No sir, she was a fighter." Once I was positioned she lowered herself to the ground on creaky knees and took a ball from her back. She pointed briefly in the direction of my feet and said, "Now listen here. I'm gonna roll this ball over to you and you're going to kick it back. Hard as you can, now. Don't hold back just because I'm an old lady."

She smiled and fluffed her short, brown hair. I chuckled. I could see why Sookie loved Bonnie so much. Once she'd been up for it, I'd been getting regular updates from Sookie, and almost all started out, "You won't believe how Bonnie woke me up this morning." Or, "I don't know how she knew it but Bonnie knew that I was low and that chicken and dumpling soup was the only thing that would perk me up. I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd think she was a mind-reader, too." Or, my favorite, "Man, I wish I could keep Bonnie around always. She's like Gran. It just makes my heart ache to think I'm going to be well enough for her to leave soon. But I'm still going to fight this SPTSD thing."

I smiled and nodded my head. I knew this exercise. My old physical therapist used to do it with me. I tried to push away the memory of how my thighs burned after each session and focus on the ball as Bonnie rolled it toward me. My first kick was more like a spasm, and I was abashed. I wished I could do what Sookie could do then—read into Bonnie's mind and discover that she'd had patients with weaker kicks than me—but alas, I'm just human.

Bonnie must have sensed my embarrassment—either that or she saw my face turn bright red. Bullocks—because she just waved her hand dismissively. "Great start, darlin. Great start. You'll get better. Before I'm done with you, you'll be ready to join one of those soccer teams you got over here. I bet David Beckham could stand to have you at his side." Her grin was wicked and I couldn't help but smile.

I nodded and focused all my attention on the little ball she was rolling back my way. My kick was just as weak on the other leg and I could tell that I wouldn't last too long today.

"That's all right. That's fine. Give me one more."

I licked my lip and moved my leg a little bit in preparation, thinking maybe momentum would help.

In this way, we spent the next half an hour with the ball. And she was right. By the time we were done, the swing of my leg was surer and I was connecting with the ball pretty well. I smirked, thinking of toweling off Becks. I sure hoped Posh wouldn't mind too terribly much.

Bonnie had gone back to regaling me with the story of her aunt. "... First woman social worker in her county back in the 1930s and didn't take no guff from anyone," she was saying. "Raised five kids, took on three more, always had a kind word and firm hand for all us nieces and nephews who flooded her house on the weekend. Her husband was a hoot too. We called them the pen and ink well, because Uncle Jorge was tall and thin as a bean, but Flora wasn't more than 4'11" in her church shoes and round as a rolly-polly. Uncle Jorge was a fine cook. The reason we went over there every weekend was because Friday night he'd make a tres leches cake and the first kid there on Saturdays got to pick the best slice."

I watched Bonnie as she spoke and somehow I could imagine the 50-something lady as a 7-year-old running around her aunt's house and elbowing her cousins out of the way to get to the cake. Sookie was right: Bonnie's eyes did light up when she told her stories. She loved her family so much.

Which got me thinking...

"How is that you can be here, separated from your husband and your grandbabies?" I asked as she helped me lower my tired body into the bed. Screw the shower. I could lay here sweaty for a while. "I mean, Sookie told me you're raising your grandchildren? Or nieces? Sookie wasn't too sure. And you've got a husband too, don't you?"

I closed my eyes and waited for her answer. I heard Bonnie moving about my room and it was soothing, just like I knew it would be.

"Sookie mentioned my family to you?" she asked, and her voice was a combination of affection and, well, I'd have to say she sounded touched. "Well bless her heart. And yes. My Sal," she chuckled. "I sure do have a husband. He's the kindest man you ever could meet." I wouldn't say it, but I doubted that. I was sure Malc had Sal beat on that count.

Then I felt her weight on the side of the bed and I made to scoot over a little. I felt her pat my leg. "You're fine. And so is Sal. You should have seen his face when he found out I was going away for a few days to do some work for Mr. Northman." Her laugher was hearty and full-bodied and it made me smile. "You'd think I was being shipped out for the Gulf. You've never seen a more clinging man in that moment. '_Mi Corazon_, you can't do this to me! I won't survive those girls without you! And the full moon is coming!'"

She chuckled and I opened my eyes to see her shaking her head. She was holding a bowl of steaming liquid and my stomach seized and then roared with hunger. I glared at it. How could it be hungry and upset at once? It wasn't fair.

She leaned toward me and held a spoon out to me. I smelled the mildly spicy and earthy scent of chicken stock. I hoped there wasn't anything else in there. I wasn't sure my stomach could take it. Still, I couldn't help it. My mouth started watering for anything that wasn't cherry. I struggled up in my seat and Bonnie held the spoon up to me. I opened my mouth, feeling stupid as she put the spoon in my mouth.

"What we got here is chicken broth, wilted swiss chard and shiitake mushrooms. I know," she said, noticing my face as I chewed on the chard. "It's not lamb, but it'll do, right? I figured you'd want anything other than that horrible drink you've got there." She nodded towards the emptied bottles. It was warm and tasty and most importantly, not cherry.

I took the spoon from her. I couldn't help it. I knew what Sookie meant now when she'd said she'd felt stupid having someone else feed her. I might be weaker than I once was, but I could hold a spoon, for fuck's sake. So she put the bowl on a tray in front of me and I methodically went through all of it, while asking her about the kids and she asked me about Malc. My stomach warmed and I felt better and then Malc was here.

"Hey luv," he said, and he sure did look good leaning up against the wall. And just like that I was grinning widely.

. .

. .

Let's just say Malc helped me with my shower. I felt so much better after. Lighter, warmer, calmer... Lovelier.

Malc was just helping me back into bed when a commotion broke out in the hall.

"You can't bring that in there, sir... No. She's got two visitors and she can't have any more right now," insisted the nurse, her voice stretched thin as her patience. And then after a beat, "Sir!"

And then I couldn't believe my eyes. I'd recognize those beady eyes and that comb-over anywhere. Sookie's description had been spot on.

Bobby Burnham was at my door.

And he was holding a giant, obscene flower arrangement in one arm and a squirming, tawny puppy in the other. His dark, beady eyes scanned the room, his pug nose wrinkling up as they landed on Bonnie, who was straightening the room (I told her not to, but it was like she wasn't happy if she wasn't doing something). My eyebrows knitted. How could he not like Bonnie?

The puppy chose that moment to use his arm as a chew toy and I didn't even try to restrain my tittering laughter as he yelped and fumbled with the flower arrangement, trying to keep it from tumbling out of his arms and shattering on the floor like some kind of pornographic carnage.

"Shit!" he grumped, and just as he was about to lose his grasp on the pitcher holding the flowers, Bonnie bustled over and took them from him. He seemed relieved until he winced and I looked down to see the puppy holding onto Bobby's arms by razor-sharp teeth. Her tail was wagging and her little eyes were wide in triumph. And then she let loose a stream onto his loafers.

I giggled and clapped my hands together. I'd have to remember to give the pup a treat later.

"G-g-goddammit! Fuckin' devil dog..." Bobby cursed as his legs wobbled underneath him. I knew from what Sookie told me that those pups' teeth were coated in venom and packed quite a wallop. But that was no excuse for what he did next. He took the pup by the scruff of his neck and tore his teeth from the tatters of his blazer, howling in pain as the teeth tore through again and then went to fling the pup—

My heart caught in my throat. I went to lurch after him to catch the poor pup, but just then...

I sighed.

"Bobby, if I can't trust you to do my bidding without causing harm to the gifts sent from my Bonded to her best friend, I might not be inclined to allow you to survive another night."

And just like that, Eric, in all his tall, blond, and dead glory filled the entry to my rooms. I felt my skin prickle as all the blood in my body rushed to the surface, begging him to take a little sip.

And then he turned his perfect chiseled face toward me and smiled so wide that his azure eyes crinkled around the edges. He swaggered toward me, his giant hand eclipsing the little puppy's potbelly, his giant, spangly belt buckle chiming with every step.

"And you must be Alison," he said, taking my limp hand from my lap and running his nose over the thin blue veins of my wrist and inhaling deeply before planting a kiss on the back of my hand. He smiled up at me with hooded eyes, as if he'd determined that the vintage of my blood was a good year. "Sookie has told me so much about you."

I sighed breathily and nodded dumbly. And truly, all the blood _must_ have drained from my brain because I woozily giggled and glanced away. My free hand involuntarily clenched around Malc's leg.

And that's when I realized that Malc was still sitting beside me as this mountain of a vampire loomed over me—and I was ready to offer myself up as a vampire aperitif. I leaned against Malc as a reminder to whom I belonged. He rubbed my neck and kissed my temple. Then I saw Malc's long, lanky arm shoot out into my line of vision and Malc's deep voice rumbling, "And you must be the vampire my Ali talks about so much. I'm Malc, Ali's husband."

He said it genially, airily even. But I was caught on the "my." _My Ali_? He'd never called me that before, but I supposed when confronted with a giant Viking vampire who could easily have another career as a model, and with a wife who was nothing but a big pile of goo next to him, it was natural for him to stake his claim.

It was kind of hot, actually. I'd be sure to use it with him later. Maybe once we got home.

I roused myself enough to notice that Eric was just staring at Malc's outstretched hand, and I scrambled to rectify this gaffe in vampire etiquette. I raised my achy arm to Malc's and gently lowered it, explaining that vampires don't really touch. And the fact that he'd touched me bubbled to the surface of my consciousness—and, well, there went my blood racing off elsewhere again!

I twined my fingers with Malc's and craned my neck to kiss him and he lowered his head, the rasp of his beard rubbing against my cheek. I looked into his eyes and they were gentle, loving, understanding. He knew he was my one and only. But he also knew I had a thing for the vampire and, as his lips twisted into a smirk, I remembered the conversation in which he'd teased me that I could get one freebie with anyone, living and dead. Of course I'd chosen Eric.

And now here he was. And my blood pumped faster.

He kissed me again and squeezed my hand and whispered in my ear, "I never thought you'd actually meet him, you saucy minx."

I laughed breathily and shrugged. Of all the gifts Sookie could have sent gotten me, Eric was the best get-well present ever. Malc chuckled against me and then rose, nodding to the vampire before leaving the room.

"You might want to have one of the nurses look at that. It looks... nasty," Malc quipped at Bobby as he left the room, raising an eyebrow at me as he left.

As I looked around at the darkening room, I realized Bonnie had taken her leave, and that Bobby was limping off, presumably to change his pants and socks, and to have that wound tended.

"Scoot over."

I looked up at Eric and my heartbeat thumped. I gingerly adjusted myself to the edge of the bed and Eric spread his big frame across one side of the mattress. I heard the thump of his shoes hitting the ground and then Eric crossed his feet at the ankle off the end of the bed, wiggling his long toes under the fabric of his socks. I just stared at those feet. They were so... big. I swallowed, remembering what Sookie had told me about Eric's... prodigious endowment.

I felt dumb. All my wit flew out the window. Luckily, the puppy panted in my direction and squirmed to get free of Eric's grasp.

"This is Clarabelle," Eric rumbled in that deep voice of his that had my nether regions sitting up to hang off his every word. "You can rename her, of course. That was Sookie's choice."

He pursed his lips as if the name tasted bitter as it caressed his tongue. He placed the puppy on my lap and it struggled in chubby legs to climb up my chest (I'm well-endowed, as Sookie might say). When she did, I could feel Eric tense and lean in slightly toward me.

"Mind the teeth," Eric warned. "She isn't well trained yet. But when she is, she'll be the best guard and service dog you could want."

But all Eric's hovering was for naught. (Not that I'd discourage it. In fact, I might have cowered toward him on the hope that he'd protect me from the big, bad labrademon, pressing my cheek against Eric's thick, hard-muscled chest. And if I sighed happily, it was just because I was catching my breath after a busy day. Or at least that's the excuse Sookie would use. And hell, if it worked for her, I'd try it as well.) When the pup was close enough to coat my face in fast, shallow puffs of puppy breath, she didn't nip at me. Instead, she let out a high, thin bark and then licked around my face. I laughed so hard, Clarabelle tumbled from my chest and rolled around on the bed between Eric and I. I petted her and she curled up between us.

"Oh no, Clarabelle is a brilliant name. And she's so calm!"

Eric reached between us and stroked the puppy's soft fur, his fingers occasionally grazing mine, making me want to roll over and bare my belly for some rubs as well.

"Didn't you wonder why Sookie asked you to send her one of your scarves? It wasn't just because she liked it..."

"Sneaky bitch," I exclaimed, laughing at her cunning.

Eric just smiled at the puppy and nodded. "That's my girl."

He raised an eyebrow and smiled like he was proud of Sookie's deviousness. No doubt he was. Seems Sookie had told me Eric liked it best when she was at her most cagey. Well, that's not the word she used. She'd said Eric liked it when she was the worse version of herself, the most vampiric. She'd rolled her eyes when she'd said it, but she couldn't hide her smile. I knew deep down she loved it. Who wouldn't, when it made Eric smile like that?

I wanted to kiss that smile right off him, but he wasn't looking at me the way Sookie had described how Eric looked at her. And I suddenly sensed that I wouldn't get to use my freebie after all.

My heart sank for me but soared for Sookie. She deserved a man who wouldn't sleep with someone else, especially not her friend. Still, I looked longingly at his chest and his Adam's apple and his strong jaw and his shoulders. Even his earlobes.

I felt dizzy. So many good spots to bite. So little time or opportunity.

Eric rumbled out a laugh and suddenly something Sookie had told me came to me. _It's so humiliating, Ali. He can... smell it when I want him. I can't hide anything from the big pervert!_ I felt my face flush five shades of crimson and looked away from him.

Then I felt Eric shift on the bed and I was sure he was going to leave, offended that I'd become aroused around him—some mere human, not a human-fairy hybrid with a rare and powerful gift.

Instead, I felt something cool and heavy drape over my neck.

"Don't move." His deep voice vibrated against my neck. He was so close to me, I could feel his hair drift against my cheek and I had to swallow hard to stop the moan threatening to rise in my throat. I just blinked rapidly and nodded mutely.

He closed the clasp and smoothed his big hands over my shoulders, massaging slowly, working out any tension from this long and eventful day.

"Sookie would be here if she could, you know that?" he whispered in my ear. I nodded and before I could stop it, my hand landed on his cool fingers and held them. There was something so calming about contact. And when he wound his hand around my smaller one I sighed, happier than I had a right to be from the small touch.

"She wanted to be here herself. She went on and on about how she'd cook for you and clean and tell you stories, and how she wanted to meet Malc. But her doctor advised against it and... I take my Sookie's health seriously. I am sure you're disappointed it is I and not her, but I will not do anything to jeopardize her progress."

I stifled a laugh. I loved Sookie, but if he thought I was disappointed to have him in my bed, he was mad. I tightened my fingers around his hand and he squeezed back.

"You're just as lovely as she said, all peaches and cream," he murmured in my ear. As he did, his lips brushed my lobe and I shivered. He laughed quietly. He moved his hands down to my waist and added, "I do love a woman with curves." He squeezed the excess of my midsection and growled playfully.

A high squeal bubbled out of me from nowhere and I was so embarrassed I started on a laughing jag I couldn't stop. By the time I was done, I was snorting and tears were streaming down my face and Eric was kneeling in front of me, eyeing my display skeptically.

"Why are you leaking?" he asked, almost disturbed, and the question set me off on another peal of laughter.

Finally I leaned forward and placed my hands on his shoulders, intending to reassure him. But when they got there, I couldn't help a grope or two of his massive muscles. His look flashed hot suddenly and he leaned forward. I couldn't believe it. When Sookie said Eric did this and it kind of turned her on, I couldn't fathom it. But then Eric touched his tongue to my cheek and began lapping up my tears and I shivered and leaned forward, sighing happily.

But Eric had other plans. He leaned toward me and suddenly I found myself pushed back into the embrace of my pillows and Eric was licking the trail of my tears down to my neck. And then he was sucking on the skin over my jugular and growling and moving his hips against my thigh. The whole thing set off something primal in me and I pressed his head into my skin, whimpering. In some small part of my mind, I wondered why this was OK with me, but the rest of me was too busy marveling at the softness of his hair and the surprising sensation of his cool lips and tongue on my skin.

And then I felt it—the thing that always lit Sookie up from the inside out. The secret joy that she said never failed to ignite her. Fangs. For the first time in my life, I felt fangs on my skin, and I moaned loudly, unable to control the shuddered that rushed through my body.

Eric was smoothing my hair, running his free hand down my throat to my sternum, always stopping short of my breasts. And as much as he was teasing me, he didn't bite. I arched up into him and spread my heavy legs and Eric planted one of his tree-trunk thighs between mine. The sensation... Well, gracious plenty is indeed an apt description. I can now attest to this from personal... well, not quite experience but... close. Very. Very. Very close. I mumbled something, some kind of plea, out of my head with desire.

"S… Sookie would want you to eat..." I finally managed to stutter. That got Eric's attention and he pulled back to look at my flushed face. I was surprised. For such an old vampire, I could see a flash of mirth on his face before it locked down again and an eyebrow raise in question.

And then I did something I never though I'd have the bullocks to do. I fisted his hair in my palm and tugged him toward my neck. When I didn't budge him, I whispered in a gush, "Consider this a welcome-to-the-UK meal. I don't expect anything else. Just... please."

I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes, unwilling to see it if Eric decided against it. But then he growled and started nuzzling my jugular again. Between kisses and dull nips, he whispered, "You are unwell. I won't weaken you." And then a pause. "But you do... smell delicious."

Hell, he could weaken me all he wanted. I just wanted to feel him that close. If that was the only way I could get him inside me, I'd take it. A kind of mini-freebie. I chuckled at the thought, and the movement of my body pressed his into me more urgently and my laugh turned into something throatier.

And finally... When I didn't think he would do anything... I felt a sting... and a suck. And a thrust of his thigh between mine. And I couldn't help it. I crumbled just a little and clung to him lightly. I couldn't believe it. Eric Northman, this giant sex god of a vampire was smothering me in his body and... it was just as good as I'd imagined.

. .

. .

Later that night, I was reading on my iPad, Clarabelle curled into my side, my fingers ghosting over the bite on my neck and fingering the lampwork bead necklace Eric had put on me, when I saw Sookie log on to Twitter.

_ SSTelepath Is AlisonByNumbers around?_

My fingers flew to the touch pad.

_AlisonByNumbers SSTelepath Damn right I'm here and better than I've been in months. Never had a care package quite like THAT!_

_SSTelepath AlisonByNumbers Why Miss Ali, did my vamp show you his *package*?_

I blushed and smiled wide. I loved Twitter.

_AlisonByNumbers SSTelepath Unfortunately not! But I did get a... feel for his GP. Lucky bitch! _

_SSTelepath AlisonByNumbers So… tell me everything! I want all the details! Did you like your gift?_

I fingered the necklace.

_AlisonByNumbers SSTelepath Oh the necklace is gorgeous! I love especially the one big lampwork bead in the center. Let me guess…_

_SSTelepath AlisonByNumbers That's right—Etsy. You are evil. I have spent so much money on that site, and I'm not working right now. Pusher… ;)_

I smiled wide.

_SSTelepath AlisonByNumbers But that's not what I meant. I meant the __gift. What did you think?_

I smiled at the flowers and then at Clarabelle.

_AlisonByNumbers SSTelepath Oh Clarabelle! You trained her well. She pissed on his shoes and bit his arm! She's curled asleep next to me now._

_SSTelepath AlisonByNumbers *cackles* I knew I chose the right pup for you! Did E tell you CJ will be coming when you get home 2 teach u & M to train him?_

_AlisonByNumbers SSTelepath NO! Miss Sookie, you are too much! I can't accept all these gifts!_

_SSTelepath AlisonByNumbers Now you sound like me, Miss Ali! If I can learn to accept the entire contents of a Sonic in my kitchen, you can take a little dog training..._

_SSTelepath AlisonByNumbers But you haven't answered my question yet. What about the gift—THE gift?_

I looked at the screen confused.

_AlisonByNumbers SSTelepath The flowers? Ah… They're just as obscene as you said? But that can't be THE gift…_

_SSTelepath AlisonByNumbers Now don't play coy with me Miss Ali. I know good and well that you gave my vampire a treat tonight. _

I sat frozen for a second. I felt suddenly guilty that I'd let Eric rub himself all over me. I'd like to blame my weak limbs for not pushing him off of me—hell, he wasn't even my type. But truly, after all she'd told me about his gifts in the bedroom, I don't think any woman would have the strength to resist him. He's not even my type... but he's my type, if you get my meaning. I think he might be everyone's type.

_SSTelepath DM AlisonByNumbers You there, Ali? You don't think I'm mad, do you?_

I was too shocked to respond right away. I knew Sookie was the jealous type, quick to anger. And this was the longest they'd been apart since they'd moved in together.

_SSTelepath DM AlisonByNumbers You have no idea how long it took me to convince Eric to feed off someone else, esp. a friend. I knew you'd love it._

_SSTelepath DM AlisonByNumbers Girl, don't you get it? You think I'd only send you a pup and Bonnie and flowers when the best gift of all is that 6'5" hunka..._

_ SSTelepath DM AlisonByNumbers ... hunka vampire love I got? You think I'd send him to you just to bring a necklace? Hell no!_

I started laughing and started typing, but before I could finish, Sookie confirmed my suspicions.

_SSTelepath DM AlisonByNumbers So—spill. Your gift. Your ERIC gift. Did you LOVE IT? (I'll be offended if you say no!)_

She ended it with a bunch of exclamation points and a silly vampire emoticon. I just shook my head and laughed so loud I thought I might wake the dead (and I might not mind what happened if I did...).

Finally my hands landed on the touch screen.

_AlisonByNumbers DM SSTelepath Well, Miss Sookie, I do believe you'd turned me into a fangbanger after all. And what a way to go!_

_**A/N:**__ So there you have it. I love you, Ali, and I hope this brightened your day/night. __ By the way, little known fact: When I was in middle school, I wrote stories starring my friends. They usually ended up being suspense tales for some reason, but this totally reminded me of that. I hope all the cultural references translated. I'm not British, after all. _


End file.
